How We Met - Part II

This is in response to a question asked about how H and I met for March Q&A month.  It turns out that it is a long story - you can catch up with Part I here.  I decided to finish, because I have been thinking about it all morning and I have other things to do.  The walk down memory lane continues...

When you are single for a long time, you start to get quite a list going regarding what you want in a mate.  Here was my relatively short list:  single, no kids, no more than ten years older.  That's it.  I broke every rule when it came to H.  I figure that means this relationship is either very very right or very very wrong.

You really can't help who you fall in love with.

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H had made an unusual proposition to me, one with his wife's consent, but one which I could not fathom or stomach.  I was very uncomfortable when I had to be around him and I avoided unnecessary contact.  This went on for a while.  During that time, I turned 28 years old.

My birthday is always a time of reflection and this birthday pretty much sucked.  The boyfriend mentioned previously showed up on that day (awww, he remembered) and we had sex.  I told him that I missed him (I didn't) and that I still loved him (I don't) and begged him to stay (he left).  Nothing like hitting a girl on her down day.

That whole experience carried my normal birthday funk over for a couple of months.  What was I doing with my life?

Well, one day, about two months later, I was in the garage at work getting ready to leave and I saw H blow in on a motorcycle.  He looked so good (yes, motorcycles are sexy) and so alive, and while I had not thought about him at all, that kiss must have been marinating.

I drove over to where he was and quite unexpectedly (at least to me!), invited him to have sex with me.

He said, "Are you serious?"  Yes.

"Okay, lunch on Friday."

Friday rolled around and he followed me down the freeway to my apartment. I arrived first and went inside, shutting the door.  He knocked.  I opened it.  I started to say something and he just attacked me with his lips.  Months of pent up sexual energy came rushing out.  (I am so glad he did not let me speak, because I probably would have ruined it all right there.)

We went to the bedroom and had a funny moment when we realized no one had a condom.  Apparently, neither of us do this much anymore.  Since I was not on the pill and there was no condom, I ended up giving him a blow job (and apparently sealing my fate to that particular activity).  It was fantastic.

I normally don't tell people this, but I also don't normally tell people that I like to be spanked and desire to suck on H, so I am telling you.  For the next three months, we had a sexual relationship.  Yes, an affair.  Every possible chance we could get - in cars, in stairways, in elevators, in my apartment, and yes, even at their house.

Because there was no chance of a relationship, I constructed a Chinese Firewall, if you will, against any chance of feelings for H.  This is probably the only time I have ever been successful at this.  His wife still seemed to be out of town a lot and there seemed to be a lot of fights, but I did not encourage any stories and he is not one to over share.

About 2 and 1/2 months in, H asked, "What if I wasn't married anymore?"  I thought, yeah, that's how this works - you sleep with a married man and they leave their wife and you live happily ever after.  Not. "Well, you are, so..."

Christmas rolled around and H called and said, "I am coming to see you."

"No."  I said.  "You are not.  It is Christmas and Christmas is for family.  You are not family."  I was alone that day.

"I am coming over."

"No."  And I ended the conversation.  He respected my wishes and he did not come.  Which was good.

January came and I found out that he was alone and I had a couple of days off work, so I said, let's get out of here... and we took off to a bed and breakfast for two nights.

While we were there, H asked me if I thought that I could ever have feelings for him.  I said, "I have no idea.  I am not even contemplating that."

He told me that he and his wife had finished before Christmas and he wondered if I could care for him.  I literally lay with my back to him, his arm around me and pictured a real wall disintegrating into ashes and felt an overwhelming rush of love for this man that I had known for two years and through so much.

Two days later, I told him I loved him.  Three months later, he asked me to marry him.  And lest you think we rushed into anything, 18 months after that, we got married.  That was eight years ago.

I wish I could say it was all great, but the first six months were hard.  He was still in divorce proceedings, which everyone knows is a bundle of fun.

Also, we fought a lot - me because of guilt over how we started and him, I think, because he wanted to get married for the last time and needed to let me know for sure who he was and what he needed.  Since then, though, it has pretty much been all great.  I can't imagine any other man fitting with me so perfectly.

THE END

PS - On the very same day my wall broke away, probably around the same time, the wife cleaned out the bank accounts.  I always found the timing interesting - the universe telling you when something is really done.  I also think it was fitting - H and I are so very right for each other; but people were hurt on the way to us getting there.  I never forgot that.